


Contentious

by PepperF



Series: Diego whump [11]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Breakup, Canon Compliant, F/M, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: He's waiting on her porch when she gets home.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Eudora Patch
Series: Diego whump [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951318
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Contentious

**Author's Note:**

> Short and...sad? Thanks as ever to Bethany for beta-reading this. :D
> 
> Who has two thumbs and is hoping that Eudora is alive in s3? This fanfic writer!

He's waiting on her porch when she gets home.

"Don't."

But he smiles anyway, apologetic, conciliatory. "Eudora—"

"I said, _don't_. I mean it, Diego. Don't make me arrest you."

"Officer Patch," he tries, sweetly formal. "I'm sorry. I really am. I know I fucked up, and I am genuinely, one hundred percent sorry."

Eudora looks him over, that soft smile, the hope in his eyes, the way he's ducked his head and made himself soft and unthreatening...the raw scar on his cheek.

She hardens her heart. She's made a decision, and she's sticking to it—but god, he makes it so hard.

"I meant what I said, Diego. I'm not doing this any more. We're through. I'm sorry too, but I'm not changing my mind."

His smile fades a little when he hears the finality in her voice, and he steps down off the porch towards her—on instinct, she steps back out of reach, and he hesitates, pulls his hand back. She can see the struggle in him, the part of him that wants to push his luck, because they've fought before, haven't they, and then they've _fought_ before, and sometimes she doesn't mind a little tussle, a little spice in her love life—but the other part of him sees her sincerity, respects it.

It's that half of him that she'll miss the most. She loves flirty, dangerous Diego, but she could have resisted his considerable charms, if she hadn't fallen for perceptive, considerate, earnest Diego. Damn him.

"Eudora, please. Can't we talk about this?"

She sighs. "Look, I'm not angry with you, not really. But I'm not doing this—us—any more. I've made my decision. Are you going to respect that?"

He shakes his head, but more in disbelief than refusal. "We've had our disagreements before, but we've got past them. What's so different now?"

Eudora stomps up the porch steps, brushing past him. "I'm sorry, I thought I could do this, but I was wrong. That's on me. I thought..." _I thought you'd change_ , she doesn't say aloud, _I thought you'd see sense—because the life you've chosen, it'll kill you, you know that, right? You take stupid risks, and you're going to end up dead someday, and for what? A handful less criminals on the street, and no real systemic change?_ Because she hates that about herself, a smart woman like her, walking into an old cliché like wanting a man to change, with her eyes wide open. "Look, I've had a long day, Diego. I'll drop your stuff off this weekend, okay."

"Eudora, wait—"

She whirls and smacks him with both hands, open palmed against his chest. Not like she'd hit if she needed to defend herself, but like someone full of fury at the person they love—still love, because she can't reason that away (not yet, anyway). He catches one wrist, and holds it against him.

"That's right, Eudora, yell at me, hit me, if that's what it takes. Get it all out," he says, and she's swept with a wave of fury that he's not taking this seriously, like everything else in his life, he still refuses to understand that she means it this time.

"Why don't you ever listen to me?" she yells, despite herself, emphasizing her words with the smack of her closed fists on his chest. "I'm done arguing with you about this!"

"Then why are you arguing with me right now?" he asks with a tiny smirk.

"Because _you_ came to _me_ , you fucking asshole!"

And then he's kissing her, and she's kissing him back, damn her, letting him lift her off her feet and up the last few steps, to push her back against the door. 

She's got her arms around his neck, pulling him close, before she knows what she's doing, and he's murmuring about how sorry he is, between kisses, and trying to get her door unlocked and her shirt undone at the same time, and she's missed him so much it's a physical ache—and no no _no_ , she is _not_ doing this.

She flips them so he's got his back against the wall, and he grins at her. "Are we done arguing?"

"Yes, Diego."

And then she steps back. His face falls, and oh, she's not sure her heart can take it. She wants to cancel the words, to pull him into her arms and forget herself again—but she has to be strong. For a second, she even hates him for making her be the adult here. 

"I need you to leave now."

"No. No. Dora, listen, we—"

And she knows, she's never going to be able to make him give her up, never going to convince him she's right, but she can make her decision crystal clear, so she turns away instead and opens her door.

She refuses to listen any more to what he's saying, refuses to look back at him. Refuses to hear him beg, or see the tears in his eyes. He's such a child, sometimes, he refuses to accept what he doesn't want to believe, and this is the real reason she can't do this any more: because of all the times she's tried to be practical, sensible, when he's just willing to throw himself away, to hell with the consequences. To stay with Diego would mean abandoning who she is, to give herself over to his way of thinking. And she just—she fundamentally cannot do that.

So, for both her own sanity and because he won't, she does the sensible thing, the practical thing, and closes the door behind her, with a final _click_.

And if she also cries a little, well—there's a reason they worked for as long as they did, too.


End file.
